My Favorite Dog Breed
Old English Sheepdogs are not seen much in Texas, but they’re my favorite breed. The OES loves people and can be quite the clown. They are good-natured and sociable, enthusiastic and bumptious.
Our first OES, Obadiah came to live with us after our move from New England back to Texas and we’ve had one ever since.
Obie never quite understood he was a dog. Our daughter treated him like the little brother she never had. Such a kind gentle soul. He never once complained or growled.
The sad part of owning an OES is their short life span of ten to twelve years.
When we lost Obie, we found Micah at a breeder in Colorado. Our furry bundle of energy arrived for Christmas and filled our sad hearts with fun and laughter.
Micah took it in stride when our granddog Bernie came to live with us when our son went off to seminary. A short time later, a rescue OES, Rhinestone, joined us. They made quite the trio walking through our neighborhood. We lost Micah and Bernie (at age 17) close to the same time. Rhinestone, already skittish from her early life, became even more attached to me. When we had hardwood floors installed, she went to stay with my sister-in-law, who had recently lost her dog. Two lovely ladies found one another and became best buds. Rhinestone went to live with Keta.
I wrote about their story in The Dog Next Door.
After Rhinestone, we were dog-less for a time. we hated it and began yet another OES search.
Finally, we found a breeder in Florida with a litter ready to go to furever homes.
Tobias (Toby) arrived one hot summer day. It was love at first sight.
A couple of years later Buster, a twelve-pound Maltese, came to live with us. And once again we were a big happy family. Buster loved to sit on my lap and help me write.
When Toby crossed the rainbow bridge, we thought Buster would be a fine only dog. But the three of us missed having a big guy around.
After another OES search, we found Micah’s breeder in Colorado had puppies ready. We picked up Finnegan MacCool on a crisp October day. Buster was delighted to share his bean bag again.
Sadly, we lost Buster in 2021 and now Finn is an only dog. It’s working fine. Finn misses Buster but Buster bossed him around and wouldn’t share my lap willingly. Now Finn has my lap all to himself. He’s a happy dog.
My love of Robots
Machines that do repetitious jobs using AI are manpower savers. Industry has employed robots for years.
As a longtime Star Wars fan, robots and droids fascinate me. I love watching these guys.
Back in my elementary school teaching days, I taught a robotics unit where we designed robots with Legos and wrote essays about the robot’s use. No automation, but each design had to have a purpose.
The kids loved the designing part…hated the writing part.
Legos advanced to motorized remote control robot kits and robotic competitions. Two of my grandchildren competed in several and won several
Robots are marvelous things for industry and movies. Now we have robots designed for repetitious household tasks.
I never realized how much of a good thing a household robotic vacuum would be until C-3P0 came to live at our house. I was always skeptical that a machine could vacuum as well as a human. Then our OES Finn was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that causes him to lose his hair.
Sick and tired of having to vacuum every day, we took the plunge and bought a robotic vacuum. Named after the Stars Wars robot, C-3PO is a marvel.
Using a phone app to control where he goes, we watch C-3PO buzz along sweeping the floors over rugs and door thresholds.
So does Finn.
When C-3PC’s finished, he gives a beep-beep like a roadrunner and heads to his station to recharge.
From teaching kids about robots to owning one—life’s amazing!
What next?
It’s Finnegan’s Birthday
Somewhere back in time, I fell in love with Old English sheepdogs. We adopted a mixed-breed puppy (part OES and part New Foundland). He and his litter had been found abandoned in the snow. The puppies were raised in the science lab at our daughter’s high school in Connecticut.
Azariah was big, black, and kinda scary. He didn’t much care to be told what to do and had bitten several people. When we moved to Texas, he didn’t.
Because I loved Connecticut and wasn’t happy about moving back to heat and humidity, hubby-dear promised another real OES puppy and a swimming pool. That made the idea of a move far more attractive.
Obadiah arrived. He too was big, but not scary. He loved to play hide and seek with the children. He even let our daughter dress him in her softball shirt.
Obie’s face always greeted me in the front window whenever I came home from my teaching day. The dog could tell time! Obie was a terrific dog and he instilled an even stronger love for the breed. Sadly, an OES lifespan is 10-12 years and we lost Obie.
Things were sad around our house that holiday season until my Christmas present arrived-you guessed it, an AKC Old English puppy-we named Micah Bear. He was another great dog. Our nest was emptying and he filled the space as only an OES can.
He was joined by Bernie a terrier mix and Rhinestone, a rescue OES. Our walks with the three dogs stopped traffic. We lost Rhinestone and Bernie and then Micah Bear, and decided we’d go dogless.
That did not last.
Tobias Bear flew in from Florida to join our family. He was a love with all the fun traits of OES in abundance. He was intelligent, playful, sociable, bubbly, loving, and adaptable. When we added a Maltese brother, he loved him too.
We lost Toby before our return to Texas and decided Buster the Maltese was pet enough. After a couple of months, all three of us were so depressed without our Toby that we started looking for another OES.
Micah Bear had come from Bugaboo Kennel in Colorado Springs so we hopped in the car and drove four hours from our mountain home to meet another puppy who would be our next OES, Finnegan MacCool.
He was a hairy bundle of joy who loved being held from the first moment we saw him. That was charming when he was a puppy.
Now full grown and ninety-four pounds it can get trickly fitting on laps.
He’s my writing buddy, always laying nearby in front of a fan because we’re back in Texas.
Time is moving far too fast. Finn will be six on July 27.
Happy Birthday, Finn.
Three Lessons I’ve Learned from My OES
I love Old English sheepdogs. We’ve had five, so I know the breed well. Unfortunately, their life span is only 10 to 12 years. That’s how we’ve had so many. Our fifth OES will be five years old this week.
He came from Bugaboo Kennel in Colorado Springs, and he’s been Velcro companion ever since.
His name is Finnegan MacCool after the Irish giant Fionn mac Cumhaill of Giant’s Causeway. You can read the legend here.
Finn’s our largest OES at 99.6 pounds, and the most loving. He’s always up for a cuddly nap with you.
Or sitting in your lap…wherever you sit.
Besides the unconditional love, Finn has taught me some important lessons.
Trust your instincts.
Finn senses if someone or some animal or some situation poses a threat. He has that inbred instinct to protect me. I trust him.
In life, we must trust our instincts too. Others’ opinions are important. But in the end, we should heed our gut instincts.
Know what you want and be super persistent about securing it.
Finn normally settles under the table at mealtime unless he’s smelled fried eggs or pizza. Then he nudges my thigh throughout the meal reminding me he’s waiting.
The scenario reminds me how important dogged persistence can be. We should not give up on our goals even if there are setbacks or defeats.
Poor Finn doesn’t always get to lick the fried egg plates. Sometimes we have visitors and seeing a dog lick a human plate tends to freak some people out. That’s why there’s a Sani-wash option on the dishwasher. But when he smells pizza baking or eggs frying you’ll always find him nudging my leg not under laying under the table. He doesn’t give up.
Even if we fail, persistence helps us learn what to do better next time or what techniques or approaches work, and what don’t.
Go outside and play.
I tend to spend hours on my laptop. In our technology world, it’s easy to be online and working 24-7. For Finn, it’s boring. After a while, he will drop that big old head in my lap or nudge my elbow with that bigh black nose to get my attention until I push away from the computer, iPad, or iPhone.
I never regret spending time with him. When I return to my task, I’m refreshed, and it’s not imagined. Research suggests exercise can improve our productivity.
What lessons have you learned from your pet?
Familiar Things in Pandemic Times
The limbo of this pandemic keeps just hanging on. Familiar is gone.
It’s hard to adjust to this new normal. At least around our house. Hubby-dear gets out of the car twice when we make our necessary supply runs. Once like normal-happy and carefree. Then again when he returns to put his mask on. I do the same.
We miss the old ways and familiar.
Our Finnegan MacCool does too. How do I know? I found his baby lovey, a blue elephant, beside his bean bag recently.
The little elephant came with him when we picked him up four years ago and it was always the one toy from his basket of toys that he’d carry with him. The breeder’s daughter bought it for him.
We met Finn at eight weeks but, with a long car trip from Colorado to Texas scheduled, asked the breeder to keep him an extra couple of weeks before we took him home. We didn’t think it’d be good idea for a young puppy to be confined in a car for such a long drive.
She agreed and her daughter, Taylor, said she’d watch out for our baby Finn. Taylor was in junior dog handling training for their show Old English sheepdogs. She was thrilled to have Finn to work with.
When we picked him up, she wanted to be sure he had his special lovey to comfort him in case he missed her. At first, he did miss Taylor. Blue elephant was always with him no matter what other toys he had. Other times of stress like the move back to Texas, he’d find his blue elephant to keep close.
Then as he settled into his new surroundings, he kinda forgot about blue elephant. Until this pandemic and blue elephant has reappeared.
I don’t blame him. I’m looking for familiar things too. Are you?
Walking, walking
Walking is my most favorite exercise next to being in the swimming pool. When we lived in the mountains, some days I walked 5+ miles. Lovely weather, lovely views.
My four-legged boys always went with me. Most times, hubby-dear did. We walked no matter the weather.
That’s Toby and Buster walking with me. Toby crossed over the Rainbow Bridge before we moved to Texas.
Now, Finnegan MacCool joins Buster and me.
We don’t have the cool weather walks any more or the mountains. Our view is filled with massive, hundred-year-old oaks that shade our way.
And we go early in the mornings before the sun rises enough to crest the treetops.
Buster’s thirteen so he doesn’t move as fast. Finn turns around and checks on us often. He does not grasp social distancing.
Even though we’re in the dog days of August with its heat indexes in the triple digits where we live now, I still enjoy getting out of the house for lots of reasons.
Walking’s safe and an easy form of exercise. No added athletic skill needed, no training, or special equipment required. Well, you do need a good pair of walking shoes, but then you need good shoes anyway.
Walking is easy…you might say automatic. No thinking involved with the exception that you do need to make sure you don’t trip or walk into something.
Walking allows our five senses to experience what’s around us. The sound of a bird’s song, the breeze rustling the leaves. The scent of fresh cut grass. The sweet aroma of honeysuckle blooming on a neighborhood fence.
Walking reminds us of the real world around us. One that isn’t from the news or a movie or a tv series. Sequestered inside we sometimes forget the good that’s outside our door.
Walking can help us feel better physically and mentally. When I walk the dogs placing one foot in front of the other and taking in the sights refreshes my brain and my spirit.
Walking can take our minds off these troubling times of this pandemic.
My walking companions and I recommend going for a walk. We always feel better when we do. You might too.
Doggie Love
Finnegan loves me. How do I know?
I actually considered his actions of leaning on me, staring at me, and dropping his head into my lap when least expected to be very annoying.
After reading “5 Signs of Deep Affection You Won’t Want to Ignore” in my August issue of Your Dog, newsletter of Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine at Tufts University, I changed my opinion.
In case you have a loving dog like our Finn, I thought I’d share what I learned.
~Leaning
This is a clear signal your dog feels special about you.
Our Finn will sit on our feet leaning his head back to be petted. He weighs ninety pounds which gets heavy after a while and we must use the enough command. He trots off to sit in front of the nearest fan content with whatever petting he gets.
Knowing he’s really letting me see how special I am to him, I might let him sit on my feet a bit longer next time.
~Eye contact or staring
Doggy direct eye contact is normally used for threats or aggression. But, if your dog makes direct eye contact with you like our Finn does, he’s acknowledging what a cherished connection you share.
Staring releases oxytocin, the bonding hormone that new mothers experience when they first hold their newborns, into a dog’s brain. Looking back into their eyes releases the same hormone to your brain.
I often catch Finn staring. Now I know he’s not challenging me, I’ll smile back.
~Dropping his head in our laps
Veterinarians call this docking. Not clipping the tail, but more like a space capsule reconnecting to the mother ship. Finn’s saying “I need warmth; I need closeness.”
While we’re watching television, Finn will jump on the couch and plop his head in my lap. I accuse him of deliberately aggravating his Maltese brother who always occupies my lap when I sit and doesn’t like to share. I pet Finn for a bit and he jumps down content to let Buster have my lap.
It’s good to know Finn’s not being obnoxious when he leans, stares or docks. He’s saying “I love you.”
So is your dog.
From now on, I’ll return the sentiment with soft strokes and loving words. I know I feel bad when I say I love you and I don’t hear the words returned.
Flower Quotes – Lady Bird Johnson
About the Image: Finnegan MacCool in the wildflowers taken along a Texas hill country road. As Lady Bird Johnson and her husband, Lyndon Johnson, crisscrossed American on the campaign trail, she saw the opportunity for roadside restoration to bring regional identity to areas that otherwise might be lined with billboards and invasive species.Thanks to their Highway Beautification Act of 1965 drives along highways in the springtime do offer opportunities to stop and snap pictures and be touched by regional flowers.
Do you talk to things that can’t talk back?
I talk to my dogs, my plants, my car, and lots of things that can’t talk back.
It’s anthropomorphizing—a big word that means attaching human traits, emotions, or intentions to non-human entities.
Nicholas Epley, a professor of behavioral science at the University of Chicago and anthropomorphism expert says:
“Historically, anthropomorphizing has been treated as a sign of childishness or stupidity, but it’s actually a natural byproduct of the tendency that makes humans uniquely smart on this planet. No other species has this tendency.”
Why and how humans have this ability can’t be fully explained because our brains are so very complicated. Finding human characteristics in inanimate objects signals the brain’s creativity at work.
Anthropomorphizing is also part of our nature. We are social animals. We want to befriend everyone we meet, give them a name, or have them give us their name, and talk to them.
If you saw the movie Castaway, Tom Hanks’ beloved best friend was Wilson, a volleyball with a face. If you haven’t seen it, you should. It’s a great film.
Around my house, my vacuum cleaner is Ugh-glow, my canning strainer Shirley, and the metal art dragon in my yard is Custard. My houseplants have names too and sometimes they even perk up with a pep talk.
My Old English sheepdog Finnegan MacCool and I communicate well. So does his older brother, our Maltese Buster.
I ask them if they’re hungry as I pour the food into their bowls or if they want to go play outside. I tell them to keep the giraffes away from the house when I leave and say “I’ll be back soon” as I walk out the door.
Fellow pet owners will relate. Others think I’ve gone cuckoo.
That’s okay. I take comfort in Epley’s words. Anthropomorphizing is superior intellect and creativity showing forth.
Do you have any inanimate friends you have anthropomorphized?